The Five Stages of Grief
by Chalkmuffins2
Summary: Sometimes, it takes falling apart to relearn who you are.


_Denial: avoidance, confusion, shock, fear_

"I think we should see other people. I think… I think _I _need to see other people."

Ice shoots straight into her chest, into her heart. It multiplies inside her, shoving against the confines of her heart until she feels as if she was going to burst. It is a prolonged, tortious agony. She wishes her chest would just bust open, just release everything into the air. Let it disappear. Let him disappear. Maybe if she bursts open, he will take it all back, filled with regret for even thinking of letting her go.

But she doesn't burst. And he doesn't take it back.

The ice numbs her from the inside out. He keeps talking, trying to explain. She stares at him, detached. Words and tears and sobs tumble out of him and for once he is so full of emotion, and idly she wonders what is happening. This can't be happening. When will she wake up from this sick nightmare?

_Anger: frustration, irritation, anxiety_

"I didn't realize it until now, but I'm not happy anymore. I haven't been happy for months."

Flames streaked through the ice, shattering and melting it into pieces. Didn't realize it until now? How can someone be so stupid? How can someone be so unaware? The sheer weight of her unhappiness hangs around her like shackles, often so tight and unforgiving she can't breathe. What kind of _bullshit_ does he think he's spewing? Her heart pumps the fire through her veins and she lets him know just how foolish his statement is.

Wasn't it just a few weeks ago when he said he wanted to move in together? Wanted to get married? Wanted to travel the world together?

When she finally leaves his house, she sprints to hers. The world blurs around her and it is through instinct that she manages to get home. She storms inside and slams the door shut, knowing but not caring about the damage she did to the infrastructure. The fire built up in her begs for release and she screams, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Opening her mouth adds fuel to the fire. The flames lap up the pure pain pouring out from her, growing and engulfing her whole body.

_Bargaining: struggling to find meaning, reaching out to others, telling one's story_

The day after everything ends, she lies in bed for hours. She doesn't sleep. She doesn't eat. She knows there is a meaning to life without him, but she can't seem to find it. It dances around the edges of her subconscious mockingly, and she doesn't have the energy to chase after it. Some instinct inside of her gathers up that is left in her and casts a line out into the world.

"He broke up with me."

The words tumble out of her mouth. They flow out from her fingertips. They reach out feebly for help. '_Please_,' her heart whispers. '_Someone help me._'

At first, when she talks about what happened, she is robotic. Emotionless. She operates on auto-pilot. She can't find it in her to be more. There is nothing left, no energy to pull from. But each time she says it, a small part of her awakens. It wrenches her up, forcing her consciousness forward. Each time, it is painful. But each time, someone is there to listen, to catch her. The thin webs spanning out desperately for help grow stronger.

_Depression: overwhelmed, helplessness, hostility, flight_

It's been weeks, but his words still echo in her. They cling to her, following closer than her shadow. They slither into her, curling into her mouth, eyes, ears, any orifice they could find. They whisper into her very core, "He never wanted you. He never wanted this. And now, he's free."

When the words force their way in, they burrow deep holes throughout her. They empty her out, leaving behind a weak carcass of who she used to be.

It is different from the ice from before that froze around her heart, locking it in place. This is darkness.

It comes in waves. Some days, she is filled with smiles and honest "I'm fine's" and an odd, buoying sense of almost-relief-but-not-quite. Other days (most days), it is like she has fallen off a boat in the ocean in the middle of the new moon. There is no line where the midnight sky ends and the inky black ocean begins. The stars glimmer faintly, almost mockingly, as she reaches for some sort of light. She is on the verge of drowning, her limbs and spirit and heart _so heavy_ she doesn't quite understand how she keeps herself afloat. The burrows running throughout her are filled with the darkness and she wonders why she doesn't just give up, but the barest animal instinct in her snarls.

"You are a fighter. You have survived worse. You will survive this. You must."

And so she does.

_Acceptance: exploring options, new plan in place, moving on_

She is sitting outside, rereading a book of poetry she forgot she had. She has never been one for fancy written words, never understood why someone would twist words around for stanzas and stanzas just to compare one's beauty to a flower. (Perhaps it is because the nature of her childhood. Move fast fight hard live on. You do not have time to enjoy the privilege of pretty words when you are straining to survive to see the next day.) The poet in this book apparently feels the same, most poems only spanning 1-4 lines. She finds peace in the simplicity. Not everything needs to be so complicated.

She stumbles upon a line: "Fall in love with yourself, even when you're alone. Especially when you're alone."

She finishes the book quickly, but that line resonates within her. She can't remember the last time she was so alone. She can't remember who she was without him, all those years ago.

It has been a month since he left her.

She puts the book down and closes her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun spill lightly over her. Of course, there was a logical part of her brain that knew it wouldn't, but it is still a surprise that the world did not shut down when he left. The dust is clearing, and she is relearning the person left behind. This person is uncertain and scared and broken but still so _beautiful_. This person is complex and strong and soft and trying her best. It makes her want to cry, to smile, to beg her for forgiveness: "I'm sorry I made you lonely for so long. I'm sorry I neglected you. I'm sorry I forgot that you are the sun."

The warmth envelops her and she thinks it feels like forgiveness.

She still does not know this familiar-yet-unknown person, battered and broken but firmly standing on shaking legs, alone for the first time in seven years. But she can't wait to get to know her.

* * *

**A/N**: hoooo boy it has been a _while_ since I have written something, and it definitely wasn't on this account.. I've gone through a lot of life since then. Anyways, writing this helped me through my heartbreak. I decided to share in the hopes that reading it helps someone else through theirs.


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